


Beneath These Scars

by SheWolfStarFlight



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben has a crush on Rey, Ben is a drug dealer, Ben is edgy on the outside but really soft on the inside, Did I say Reylo?, F/M, Fluff, Freeform, Graphic Violence, Healing, How Do I Tag, Hurt Ben, Hurt Rey, I promise it's better than it sounds, I wrote with minor input from my friend, Little beans find each other, Modern AU, Nightmares, Rape, Rape Recovery, Rey still has no parents lol, Rey thinks he's a lowlife, Reylo - Freeform, Slow Burn, Snoke is a pedo, So much comfort, This is not like most modern AU's, angsty, just a little warning, this gets intense, trigger warning, you will like it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-11 17:44:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13529364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheWolfStarFlight/pseuds/SheWolfStarFlight
Summary: (Read the Tags) (This Fic is not for the faint of heart)  Ben Solo is trapped in a dark criminal world he never asked for- a world he doesn't belong in.  Rey lives with foster parents after moving from England and tries to navigate both her conflicted past and her present.  Ben is somewhat of a social outcast because of a reputation of his own creation.  Rey is a lonely yet bubbly personality that lights up the hallways.  After Ben's work life and his social life begin to clash, Rey finds herself swept up in a web of darkness that threatens to engulf the both of them.(I AM BAD AT SUMMARIES PLEASE READ)





	1. Different Lives

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone- my best friend and I started thinking of this AU for Reylo and it grew a plot. This is not for the faint of heart and if you have somehow avoided the Archive Warnings, The Tags, and The summary- then wow- but also I will warn you again. There is graphic content in this story and it may be triggering to some readers. If you are unsure read at your own discretion. I take the topics mentioned in this story very seriously and they are used to propel the plot forward and bring our characters together. Feel free to stop reading at any point.

**Ben**

The crisp sound of crunching leaves meets my ears as they crumble beneath my boots.  Another day.  I reach into my jacket and finger the small zippered pouch that holds my future.  The cool night air whisks my hair out of my face as I arrive at the old gravel parking lot of Jabba’s Pizza Palace.  It’s been closed down for years because of a not so discreet roach issue.  

The clouds are covering the moon, leaving only a faint light that allows me to identify the reason I’m here.   _ Him. _  He stares at me even from a distance.  His eyes are cold, unfeeling, unnatural.  His skin is crudely scarred by some accident he refuses to speak of.  I stare blankly at him, reaching into my pocket to hand him my weekly sacrifice.  Pressing the pouch into his grotesque hand, I can’t help but stare for just a moment longer than is acceptable.  

“You’ve done well, Kylo Ren,” are the only words that leave his chapped lips.  I get chills just looking at the man.  If you could even call him that.  

I simply nod.  I’ve learned that running your mouth comes with a price.  Better to smile and nod as they say, and do your complaining behind closed doors.  He reaches into his bag and grabs a much smaller one.  This one's for me.  I know very well what’s inside, and every piece of me revolts against the idea of taking another bag, promising to carry out the deeds tied to the thing.  A small grunt rumbles in my throat, but I say nothing.  I only grab the bag and turn to leave.

" Where do you think you’re going?”  His voice is cold like ice.  I freeze in my tracks.  I want to run.  I wish I would have the first time I met the monster.  But here I am, slowly turning around to face the one with the true control.  

“Goin to do my job,” my voice rumbles, perhaps a little too sarcastically in hindsight.  His face twists at the insult.  

“I have a question for you.  It’s about someone you go to school with-”

“If this is about DJ he said he’ll have the money tomorrow,” I cut him off.

A deep croaking chuckle erupts from his lips, and he raises the remains of a singed brow.  “This isn’t about that lowlife.  It’s about someone else.  Someone I’ve been watching,” his lips stretched into an ugly grin that made my stomach twist.

I can feel my lip begin to twitch, and I focus on masking all expression from my face.  It’s a skill I’ve come quite close to completely mastering over the years.  Whenever Snoke was watching someone that only meant they were in for a world of hurt.  “Who, then, are we talking about?” my voice doesn’t sound so strong anymore, and I make a mental note to fix that.

“She’s in your class, I’d imagine.  A real spunky girl, a real fiery spit of hope.  Lots of friends, gets good grades, you know the type.  And she wears her hair in that peculiar hairstyle with three buns-” his eyes light up when he talks about this girl.  There’s something in them that keeps screaming danger, but what am I supposed to say?

I feel my brows draw in confusion, “Wait why-?”

His grin widens before me, and I shudder at the unsettling expression.  He continues to speak,  “Those little freckles on her nose, bright innocent hazel eyes, that dark chestnut hair that makes her eyes shine even brighter, smooth pink lips.  A delicate slender build with a fine layer of dense muscle.”

My heart drops.  I know exactly which girl he’s talking about.  His strikingly detailed descriptions leave me wondering how long he’s been watching her.

I must look mildly frightened or at the very least uneasy because he leans in, placing a heavy arm on my shoulder and whispers tauntingly in his ragged voice, “Delicate, subtly flared hips.  Tight in all the right places…”

I suddenly exhale, and her name escapes my lips, “Rey.”  My chest tightens up upon realizing the gravity of what I’ve done.  Names are not to be taken lightly in this business.  A piece of me prays he didn’t hear me.  The expression of recognition on his face tells me otherwise.  His many other expressions shake me to my core, but this is a side of the man that I’ve never directly witnessed before now.  I can feel my hands balling into fists, and I just know it’s the only thing that’s keeping me from making any rash decisions.

“So Rey is the name.  The look in your eyes says you know her rather well.  Am I mistaken?”  He’s baiting me.  I can see it in the way his lips twist into a subtle smirk.  He’s testing my loyalty.

“Yes.  I mean, yes, I know her but not well.  We only share a few classes.  I barely know more than her name.”  That is a lie.  But there is no way he’s going to get me to rattle out her life story to him.  He didn’t know her well, but he certainly knew of her.

“Thank you.  That’s all I wanted to know.  Get home safe Kylo.”  I release a shaky breath.  Snoke always operates this way.  Once you give him what he wants he turns into a friend.  Occasionally I begin to think he only pretends to be concerned to keep me coming back, further entrapping me in the endless web of crime that he represents.  I can’t hide the resentment I’m feeling in this moment, and a different emotion flashes across his eyes for just a second before he opens his mouth one last time.  “Be careful boy,” his voice erupts in a condescending tone.  I turn and start to walk away, beginning my rounds for the night.

**Rey**

Sometimes I feel like a burden.  He’s so good at talking to people, making friends.  He makes it look effortless, laughing and smacking Poe on the shoulder.  People are  _ not _ that easy to talk to.  I can’t help but smile, though, as I stare into the eyes of my best friend.  In a lot of ways he rescued me, but I suppose in many ways I rescued him too.  Yet I still can’t help but feel like I’m weighing him down sometimes.

Sure, I have plenty of friends, but he has this way of connecting so deeply to anyone he meets.  It’s a gift I don’t have.  It’s not that I don’t want to open up to my friends and tell them all my secrets and laugh while we stay up way too late.  But every time I come close something stops me.  It’s as if I’m simply unable to trust that what I say won’t change any relationships I’ve worked so hard to build.  And I certainly don’t want Finn, the one person I trust more than anyone else on this planet, to see me any differently because of events in the past.  I’ve decided that it’s best to keep my past separate from my future, so that neither can influence the other.

So I watch.  I watch his eyes light up when a joke is well received.  I watch their smiles as he finds endless scenarios they all relate to.  Every once in a while I make a comment, and his grin only grows wider.  I  _ do _ feel loved when I’m around him, which is certainly a nice change of pace, but more often than not I just wish I could connect with people in that special way he can.  

When I first got here I knew nobody.  My foster parents worked extra hard to make my transition into American culture an easy one, but I’ve come to notice that Americans tend to worry about the most trivial things.  Unimportant things.  In this way I will never be able to relate to them.  In most other ways, though, it has been a rather seamless transition.  Trying to forget where I came from has been my hardest challenge.  I want to tell someone.  I do.  But I  _ can’t _ .  

I’m brought back to the present when Finn nudges my shoulder.  “Okay come on that joke was funny and I’m personally offended that you didn’t even smile,” his smile was still bright but his eyes wore concern.  His eyes are always concerned when he looks at me.  I’m not really used to people showing that much interest in my mental state, but when it’s Finn I can’t complain.

“Sorry I was just spacing out.  It probably  _ was _ a terrible joke though,” I let a smile fall on my lips.  His eyebrows shoot up and he feigns hurt.

“Hah!” Poe enthusiastically high fives Rose across the lunch table.  “Told you it was stupid bro.”

Finn grumbles.  “I’d like to see you tell a better one.”  My attention is effectively grabbed.

“That’ll be easy.  I’m the king of jokes. Why was the guitar teacher arrested?” 

I roll my eyes.  Poe’s jokes are always either dirty or offensive or somewhere in between the two.

Rose raises an eyebrow.  “I don’t know, why?”

Poe grins.  “He was arrested for fingering a minor.”

Rose, Finn, and I all simultaneously cringe and then burst out into laughter at the goofy look on Poe’s face.

After lunch my classes go by as usual and the time flies by.  Contrary to popular belief, school isn’t actually the worst thing in the world.  It’s organized and lowkey, and I very legitimately enjoy the majority of my classes.  Except for that  _ one class _ .  American History.  I didn’t grow up here, so I’m not entirely familiar with much of America’s wars or past battles and frankly they all get jumbled up in my head.  But that isn’t too bad, truthfully.  The part about American History that I cannot stand is the dreaded final project.  I had no say in who I got paired up with, and unfortunately I got stuck with my last pick.  Ben Solo.

I already know this project is going to drain all of the joy from that class because I’m pretty sure Ben has a criminal record.  How am I supposed to work with him if I’m not so sure I’m cool with meeting up alone?  I’ve even gone as far as considering asking Finn to tag along while we work but I wouldn’t want to bore him.  Plus, it would just be cruel to force him to hang out with Ben just because I have to.  The project is worth 25% of my semester grade, and I am bound and determined to make it the best damn project this class has ever seen.  And  _ he _ will not get in my way.

When class gets out, I stop to talk to Finn at his locker, and as I help him grab his books a set of dark eyes meet mine from across the hall.  I don’t break the eye contact, because I refuse to let  _ him _ think I’m some weak victim he can pick on.  

Ben Solo is not a nice person.  He is quite the opposite: dressing in black from head to toe, avoiding interaction on most days and ruthlessly bullying on the rest, getting into fights, and a lot more.  There are constantly rumors circulating about disgusting things he does, but somehow he must not have ever gotten caught because he continues to show up to school day after day.  

When I first arrived and made friends with Finn, Ben had been in a habit of picking on him.  He once slammed him into the lockers, giving him a huge bump on his head and causing all of his papers to fly in different directions.  Later that day I stormed up to him, fuming about what an ignorant pig he was.  I stomped right up to him and screamed in his face, defending Finn in every way I possibly could and preparing myself for whatever consequences would await me.

His little goons Armitage and Blair were standing at his side, sneering at me.  When I finally finished my rant Ben lifted an eyebrow.  I was furious.  All of this and he didn’t even have the audacity to respond with words?  Armitage, however, was almost as angry as I was.  He stepped forward menacingly, pulling his arm back and launching a fist into the air.  I had been so shocked that my hands had only just risen to stop the impact when it never came.  I opened my eyes to realize Ben was holding his wrist in his vice-like grip.  Confusion washed over me as Ben opened his mouth to speak.  He was looking right into my eyes.  “She’s not worth our time.”

Releasing Armitage’s wrist, he swiftly reached out and firmly pushed me aside with his arm before walking away, chest puffed out in arrogance, seemingly unaffected by anything I had said or accused him of.  I was left standing in the aftershock of my anger, alone again.

So back to the present, Ben is staring at me from across the hall, and I can feel a familiar rush of fury that had long since subsided.  He stares for a moment longer before turning his eyes away, seeing my defensive expression.

He continues to walk down the hall with his confident air, not even granting me another glance.  What a hateful little son of a-

“Helloooo?  Earth to Rey?” A pair of enthusiastic hands wave in front of my eyes, and I shake my head back into focus.  

“Huh?”

He smirks.  “You’ve been really spacey today.  You should get more sleep.  You know doctors recommend-”

“I don’t care what doctors think about my sleeping habits, Finn,” I playfully roll my eyes and smack him on the shoulder.  I look up into his eyes, and all the familiar warmth is there.  I grin at him.  

“Okay well if you’re not going to sleep at least invite me to your Netflix binge-watching sessions at three A.M.  I get bored just sitting at home with my fat dog that refuses to play with me.”

I snort loudly, “Blue has better things to do than run after a ball.  It’s your fault for feeding him so much.  Now he just waddles around like a little blimp.”  Finn gasps in an over dramatic expression of offense.

“I can’t look at those puppy eyes without feeling guilty.  He’s gonna get a piece of bacon or two, I can’t help it!”  I shake my head at him.  

“I’m putting your dog on Weight Watchers and taking him running with me.  Then maybe he’ll actually play with you.”  Finn smiles sarcastically.

“ _ Really?! _ You would do that for  _ me? _ ” he gasps and smacks his hand against his chest in astonishment.

I groan inwardly.  Finn can be so dramatic sometimes.  But I love him.  We start walking down the halls, slinging our backpacks over our shoulders and splitting directions as he heads to football practice and I start towards the parking lot.   _ Not _ that I have a car...because the steering wheel is on the wrong side and I have to relearn how to drive because of that...not that I’m bitter or anything.  I run into Rose in the hall on my way out.

“Rey!  Wait up!” she runs up to me, “Who’s your partner for the project?  I got Poe and we’re gonna kill this thing!”  Her eyes are bright and her smile is genuine.  Lucky Rose.  I’d love eat twizzlers and doodle on a poster board with Poe for the project but no.  I got stuck with Ben.  

A tentative smile crosses my face as I answer.  “Oh, ya know, your partner is great but you can’t beat mine.  Actually I’m sure my experience is going to be twice as incredible as yours, and my project is going to be twice as good.”  My voice is dripping with sarcasm.

Her face falls.  “Oh no did you get stuck with that stoner...what was his name?  DJ?”

“Try again.”

Recognition flashes across her features.

“Bingo.”

“Ben?  Like drug dealer Ben?  Like edgy emo Ben?  Like domestic violence Ben?”

“Letter D, all of the above.” I laugh in utter self pity.  “I’m pretty sure I’ll be doing all of the work but whatever.  At least it’ll be done my way and maybe it’ll help  _ his _ grade.”

“He gets straight A’s though, right?  I mean he’s in my Advanced English class.”

I’m immediately taken aback.  Ben has straight A’s?  “Are we talking about the same Ben Solo?”

“Yes letter D all of the above Ben Solo,” she chuckles, “He has straight A’s.”

My eyebrows shoot up and a smile actually crawls onto my lips.  If he’s really smart maybe this won’t be so bad.   _ Maybe _ .  

“Cheer up Rey.  I’m sure some of your sunshine will rub off on him and he’ll at least be able to lighten up a little.”

I smile at Rose and pull her into a hug.  “You’re too sweet you know.  So where are you headed off to?”

We break apart and keep walking, and she says, “Soccer practice.  My goal for this year was to get good at a sport.  Any sport.  Just to see if I can do it.  So lets hope I don’t wipe out on the grass like last time.  Good luck with your new criminal friend!”  She smirks at me before patting my shoulder and splitting down the other hall.  I shake my head, practically rolling with laughter.  

So I finally arrive at the doors, pushing my way into the cool autumn air.  The cold pricks my skin and I mentally make a note to not forget my jacket.   _ Again _ .  The walk home isn’t too long, and it’s rather uneventful.  I pass a few people from school who wave at me, but before I know it I approach the two story blue house that is just beginning to feel like home.  

I tentatively crack open the door, trying to listen to see if anyone is home.  It’s an old habit but it’s not hurting anything.  Nobody home.  Perfect.  My phone vibrates in my pocket as I pull the door shut, toss my bag on the couch, and flop down on the soft cushions.  I sigh as I pull out my phone.  It feels good to be home after a particularly challenging day of school, but the message I receive cuts that feeling short.

**Hey it’s Ben from US History- was wondering when you want to do the project?**

I sit up rather unenthusiastically.  Better to start early.

**I’m free now if you are.  I’m in the only blue house on Winchester.**

**Sounds good. Be there in a few.**

How did he even get my number?  Oh well, I suppose that’s not so important.  What’s important is that I need to set things up so that we aren’t awkwardly scrambling to get started.  I grab my laptop and set it up on my coffee table, then splay out all of my carefully organized notes from class.  I’m pretty good at arrangements if I do say so myself.  I’m startled out of my musings when there’s a loud knock at the door.

Geez he couldn’t have just used the pretty chimey doorbell could he?  No, he has to go pounding aggressively on the door because he’s Ben Solo.  I try to stay civil as I open the door.

He’s standing there, clad in black, as usual, his bag slung over one shoulder.  His natural confident air came with him.

**Ben**

I have never felt more uncomfortable in my life.  She stares at me, her gaze somewhat judgemental, but I can tell that she is trying to reign in her emotions.  Rey is an enigma to me.  She is so happy and bubbly at school, but the moment her eyes land on me they glaze over.  It’s like watching the sky fill with clouds.  I honestly have no idea what to do with myself so I just stare expectantly at her, praying she’ll say something or invite me in and just stop staring at me like I have seventeen eyeballs.  

I force myself to keep up the confident facade.  It’s better to keep people away from me and not allow them to get tangled up into the mess I’ve created.  Unexpectedly, a little smile appears on her lips, and I’m taken aback by even a simple gesture of kindness.  

“Sorry.  Please, come in,” she says, trying obviously hard to ignore how much she clearly despises me.  I don’t even blame her.  I’ve created this image that people are so afraid of, and I’ve done things I’m certainly not proud of.  Bashing Finn into the lockers is one of those things.  I had been shocked at how willing she had been to stand up for her new friend, going as far as to confront me in front of Hux and Phasma.  Now that is a bold move.  I didn’t have the heart to watch Hux punch her after she had so bravely stood up for Finn.  I didn’t have the heart to watch Hux punch her because she was Rey.  So I stopped him.  Of course I gave her a degrading look and of course I made a snide remark about how she wasn’t even worth our time, but my heart wasn’t in any of it.  It never is.

I follow Rey into her home, taking off my boots by the door.  “So, uh, do you have any ideas for the project?” Stupid Ben.  Stupid.  Stupid.

She turns quickly and looks up at me, seemingly surprised that I even spoke.  Seemingly surprised that I haven’t tried to pick a fight within the first 30 seconds of arriving.  Impressive.  I guess I really don’t speak much, but that is as much for everyone else’s safety as my own.  

“Well I don’t know all too much about America, but maybe something about the Civil War?  I’d like to know what made families so fervent that they were willing to kill each other.  Their own kin.  Did you have any ideas?” she asks casually, as if I’m not a massive brooding presence in her living room.  

I swallow hard.  The light that kept dancing in her eyes when she talked about her interests distracted me, and now I’m not sure I could argue for another topic if I wanted to.  “No, that sounds good.”  It’s all I say.  I can’t let her see that I’m an anxious mess underneath the protection of my imaginary ego.  

Her mouth twitches a little at my emotionless response, and I have to restrain myself from acting like a fool.  She leads me to the couch and makes room for my computer.  “I have all of the notes from this chapter if you need any references.”  

I frown.  Her voice sounds just a little colder than before.  Maybe I blew it.  She  _ is _ trying to get along and I guess I’m not helping much.  Setting down on the cushion beside her, I pull out my own notes.  She gasps when she sees them.

“Is  _ that _ your handwriting?”  she reaches to grab one of my papers but restrains herself.  Always one to be respectful.  I sigh and nod, allowing her to pick it up and take a closer look.  “This is beautiful!  Geez I wish I could write like that.  Maybe we’ll use your notes instead.”

Her face is so relaxed with a bright smile pointing in my direction.  She is  _ smiling _ at  _ me. _  I’m utterly taken aback by her childlike wonder at my calligraphy skills.  My mother bought me a calligraphy set when I was nine years old, and I’ve been at it ever since.  Hux always ridicules me relentlessly for my ‘girly’ handwriting.  I was 100% expecting the same thing from Rey.  I don’t mind a pleasant surprise, though.  

“It’s really not that great.  We should probably get to work.”  Great.  I shut her down again.  Immediately the sunshine in her gaze disappears, and she dejectedly sets my paper back down, turning toward her computer screen.  

I sigh, glancing at my own blank screen.  She’s already aggressively typing away and all I can do is stare at the empty space I’m supposed to fill.  

The rest of the time she keeps pretty silent, focused on her task at hand.  I have taken notice, however, that every time she finds something she knows she wants to use for the presentation, she bounces her legs excitedly.  I have trouble hiding my smirk when she does that.  It’s so childish, yet strangely endearing.  I’d be lying to myself if I said this was the first time I noticed little things about Rey.  

She has this unexplainable light about her, this joyful spark that fills the halls with energy.  It’d be hard not to notice her with her outspoken personality and charming British accent.  But over the time she’s been here, I’ve found myself casting glances in her general direction more than once.  I’ve always tried to stop myself though, knowing that if she saw me she’d probably be disgusted that a monster like me was staring at her.  Sort of like today.  Either way I shouldn’t be concerning myself with her.  I have a debt to pay and a reputation to protect and making googly eyes at some girl from across the room isn’t going to help me with either of those.

So I stay silent.  I keep my distance.  I shut her down.  Even though she is doing her best to make this easier I can’t allow anyone to see through the cracks in my armor.  And then a thought passes through my mind.  Snoke has been watching her.  What for?  Is it my fault?  I don’t even know.  But if he’s already watching her it won’t help if I get involved.  I need to keep my distance for her sake and mine.

At around ten thirty she decides it’s best if I go home, and I agree.  She tries to make small talk as we walk to the door, but all I can think of is that little band of freckles across her nose.  Stupid.  Stupid.

“So, if you want we can meet again tomorrow to get the outline finished,” she smiles lightly.  Even after I’ve continuously shut her down throughout the night she still smiles at me.  Why?  

“Yeah, okay.  What time should I meet you?”

“Five work for you?”

“Sure.”

“Alright.”

“Alright.”

“Bye then.”

**“Bye.” **


	2. Crossing the Line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *TRIGGER WARNING THIS IS THE CHAPTER WITH GRAPHIC SENSITIVE CONTENT PLEASE BE AWARE BEFORE READING* Sorry this took so long, my friend and I have been working on it for a while now, and as you will see it is significantly longer than the last chapter. That being said I hope you enjoy and leave kudos and comments to motivate me to write because I am lazy and need validation.

        **Ben**

Going home last night was far more difficult than I ever expected it to be.  I suppose I never really realized how much I crave companionship until I got a small taste of it.  And now I’m laying in bed, trying so hard to drown out the silence of my room.  I know I’ll have to get up and face the world, jumping right back into the mess that keeps me tethered to Snoke.  

I sigh as I shove myself roughly from under my covers.  If I don’t get up now I might just sleep the rest of the day away.  I’ll be honest, though, I care a little too much about my grades to willingly miss a day because I’m tired.  I know.  Shocking.

I just about trip on the pile of clothes that I haven’t had the energy to wash this past week.  I grunt as I kick them out of my way, finding a black shirt and pants to slip on along with my signature jacket.  Also black, surprise!  I spent over one hundred dollars on that jacket, so it’s a little big on me because I refuse to spend my money when I grow again in six months.  Throwing on my boots, I walk into the small living area of my apartment.

“You’re awake?  If you’re going to be late again today I’m not waiting for you,” the voice of my angry ginger roommate bellows at me.

“Good morning to you too Armitage.”

His face turns beet red.  “I _told you_ not to call me that!”  I smirk.

“It’s your name.  No need to wait up for me you know I have a car.  Go find some little kid to harass.  Go kick a puppy or something,” I fight the urge to grin as my smirk deepens, and I turn and grab my keys and an apple before the shouting begins.  Hux always has been a loud one.

“I don’t harass children _or_ kick puppie-”

I shut the door as I exit the apartment, completely uninterested in anything else he has to say.  Blair is waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs.  She has her own apartment, and was smart enough not to share with my ballistic red headed lunatic of a roommate.  

“What up emo?”

I cock an eyebrow at her, and she bursts into laughter.  “What up lemonhead?” I ask, referencing the brightness of her short hair.  She scowls playfully at me before punching my shoulder.

“Touche.”

Our drive to school is the same as always.  Blair AKA Phasma has been my closest friend since I’ve gotten involved with Snoke.  She has her own fair share of debt to repay and we’ve both been able to connect over that.  Of course, there are times when we have to keep our distance, but it’s been a major relief to always have someone I know I can talk to.

When we arrive we split off in two directions: me heading to Advanced Trig, and her running off to Physics.  I hold my chin up through the hall repeatedly telling myself to ignore the comments that are flying in my direction from my peers.

“I hear Ben Solo-”

Ignore it.

“-and then he just left him bleeding under the bridge-”

Ignore it.

“-such a pothead-”

Ignore it.

“-that he beat his last girlfriend-”

Ignore.

“-bet he’d kill anyone who tried-”

Ignore.

“-disgusting-”

Ignore.

A laugh rings in my ears, but it isn’t the same jeering laugh that I’ve become so well acquainted with.  It’s a joyful sound, and as I allow myself to tune back into the world my eyes land on the owner of that voice.   _Of course._

How many times do I have to catch myself glancing at her throughout the day?  Too many.  I’ve tried to tell myself that I’m just a curious person and that I like to watch everyone, but I couldn’t keep lying to myself.  I can’t deny that she’s beautiful.  I can’t deny that the inextinguishable light in her eyes makes my heart beat just a little bit faster.  I can’t deny that I may care a little bit too much about her.

She’s laughing at something Finn said, actually clutching her side because of how funny it was.  Poe is grinning ear to ear and Rose is literally on the ground, leaning against the lockers for support.  Rey smacks Finn’s shoulder repeatedly and then says something herself, which causes the entire group to erupt into another fit of manic laughter.  

I sigh.  My mind involuntarily imagines what it would be like if she were to look at me the way she looks at Finn.  If she could, in some utopian universe, feel at ease around me, at least enough to have a simple moment like that.  I shake my head.  Stupid.  Stupid.

I can’t let myself dwell on her, because it is only selfish of me.  Obviously she would never be interested in me even if I _wasn’t_ the most frightening presence in this hallway.  I force myself to keep walking.  Get to class.  Focus for now.  Get out of your head.

I take one last look at her radiant smile before turning into my classroom.  I hear a few whispers about me as I take my seat in the back.  I like back corner seats, because I can see everything that is going on in the room.  There are no blind spots, and therefore nothing can sneak up on me.  It seems irrational to be so hyper aware, but when you’ve seen as much blood and death as I have in my short life you pick up habits to protect yourself.  

I allow myself to zone into the material we’re learning.  The focus allows my anxious inner dialogue to rest.  Math is one of those classes where everything makes sense.  There is a rule for everything and all of it is absolute.  There is no wondering or abstract answers.  Sometimes I’m in the mood for pondering and uncertainty especially when it comes to anything artistic, but math is always the same.  That is something I can rely on.

I think people are more afraid of me because I get good grades.  It’s sort of like they assume I’ll turn into some evil genius who uses knowledge to cut others down.  Of course, they aren’t entirely wrong, but I never do it myself.  I always watch.  I’m Snoke’s favorite watchman.  That means I’ve seen and heard a lot of things I can never speak about if I want to keep on living.

The class ends before I’m ready for it to, and I don’t rush to my next class.  In the halls, I’ve begun to notice that people talk just a little bit louder about me when I’m walking by.  It’s as if they want me to hear the things they’re saying.  If I look them in the eyes, though, their gaze always darts away suddenly, as if they are afraid for their lives.  It used to make me feel powerful.  Now it just makes me feel alone.

By the time lunch rolls around I’ve brushed off all of the rumors I’ve accumulated throughout the day.  I sit down to the right of Blair, across from Armitage and immediately start scarfing down my slice of pizza.

My eyes drift around the lunch room and surprise surprise.  They land on _her_.  I know somewhere deep down she was the one I was searching for, but I refuse to even admit that to myself.  I feel a slight nudge against my calf.  Snapping out of my trance I glance over at Blair who had lightly kicked me to grab my attention.  She looks both suspicious and a little too aware.  As if she knows something.  Armitage, however, has the most scrutinizing daggers for eyes.  He’s looking at me as if I’d grown an extra limb out of nowhere.  

“What are you so spacey about?” he sounds both annoyed and uninterested, yet for some reason he decided to ask.

I swallow a lump in my throat that I didn’t know had formed.  “I-uh...tired.  I’m- I’m just tired.  Didn’t get much sleep last night.  That damn American History project…” I trail off.  I was not convincing.  Not even a little bit.

Blair gets the hint not to ask, but Armitage keeps pushing because that’s all he knows how to do.  “You were staring at someone.  Has the tough emotionless Ben Solo grown feelings overnight?” he sneers at me, a condescending smile plastered on his idiotic face.

I want to yell at him, or sock him in the jaw.  I can’t quite decide.  Maybe both.  But I know that if I open my mouth I’ll just stammer so I keep it shut and give him the iciest glare I can muster.  He seems to be satisfied with my discontent.  I fight my urge to pummel him.  He also works for Snoke so if I attacked him, I’d have a bigger problem on my hands.  That’s actually the _only_ reason why we haven’t torn each other to pieces by now.

Blair rolls her eyes at our seemingly childish antics.  “You two are idiots.”

I just grumble in response.

Lunch flies by and the rest of the day is a breeze.  My mind goes absent during American History, and every once in a while my eyes land on her, diligently scrawling notes down in her notebook.  I very quickly remember that _I_ need to be taking notes too, and fall back into my routine.

The day ends quickly after that.  I find myself whistling as I walk to my car.  It certainly hasn’t been the worst day I’ve had.  And maybe I get to see Rey tonight for that obnoxious American History project.  Maybe I’ll will myself to say something kind.  Maybe I won’t be so harsh today.  I walk to my car, turn my music up, and drive back to my little apartment.

    **Rey**

My day has been incredible.  Finn and I have this running gag where we have to see how many times we can insert a specific word into as many conversations as possible in one day.  Today the word we decided on was tomato, and Finn stood up in class and asked our AP English III teacher what she thought about tomatoes.  They ended having a five minute conversation about tomatoes and only tomatoes.  I had tears in my eyes when it was finally over.  Needless to say, he won today’s match.

Finn and Poe walk with me before splitting for football practice, and I happily swing my lanyard, whipping my house keys around dangerously close to my face, as I begin my walk home.  Rose stops me before I exit the building.  “Hey!  I don’t have practice today.  Wanna grab a smoothie?”  

I smile.  Rose is one of the sweetest people I know.  “Yeah that sounds great!  I just have to be back home by five to work on the project with Ben.”

“How is that going by the way?  He said anything creepy to you?  Cause if he has I will fight him,” she looks serious but it comes off as adorable.

“Rose, you’re a mouse and he’s an elephant.  All he’d have to do is step on you,” I snort and she smacks my arm.

“Hey!  I’m trying to defend you!”  but she’s smiling.  

And so we head off, smiles on our faces and sarcasm laced in our voices.  Nothing could possibly ruin this day for me.

    **Ben**

At five o’ clock I arrive at her house, knocking on the door.  I wait.  No answer.  Maybe she’s just taking a little while to get to the door.  No biggie.  I wait some more.  I knock again.  My heart sinks just a little bit.  Did she forget?

I pull out my phone and debate heavily on whether or not I should message her.  She _did_ tell me to meet her here, and if I stand out here any longer someone will start a new rumor about me stalking her.  I eventually give in and text her.

**Hey you said to meet you at five right?  I’m at the door.**

Shoot, maybe that sounds too harsh.  I always come off too harsh.  I quickly send a second message.

**I just wasn’t sure if you heard me knock.  Maybe I remembered the wrong time?**

Oh Ben you sound so idiotic it’s frightening.  I receive no answer.  Hesitantly, I walk back to my car, keeping my eyes on her pale white front door, just in case it decides to open while I’m not looking.  No such luck.

Slumping back into the driver’s seat, I toss my backpack into the passenger seat beside me.  I’m about to start the ignition when my phone buzzes in my pocket.  I pull it out and see that Rey messaged me back.  

**Hey I’m sorry I totally lost track of time!  I was out with Rose grabbing a smoothie and forgot to meet you.  Would you mind meeting me at this address as soon as you can?  It shouldn’t be too far from my house.**

She attaches her location with the message, and I cock an eyebrow as I stare at the screen.  I try not to take offense to the fact that she forgot we were meeting today.  She certainly must not look forward to it the way I do, but then again I can’t blame her.  I haven’t exactly been the friendliest around her.  

So with that, I crank up my music, start my car, and begin my drive to the location she sent me.  It’s not a super long drive, and I find myself enjoying the freedom of the country roads and the loud music to drown out any negative energy that’s been festering inside of me.  Right now I just feel at ease, relaxed even.  

The sun has already begun to set, and I feel a genuine smile pull on my lips.  There are few things in this world I appreciate more than sunsets.  No two are the same.  The sky looks as if an artist spilled her paints across the sky.  The oranges and reds bleed into the purples and pinks.  It’s peaceful and radiant and hopeful.  I sigh in contentment.

I finally pull down the gravel path of the address Rey told me to go to.  Something isn’t right here.  She must have sent me the wrong address because the house at the end of the drive is a singed, dilapidated, hull of a house.  I can’t think of a reason why Rey would want to meet me in the middle of nowhere at an abandoned burnt house.  I pull my phone out and shoot her a quick text.

**I went to the address but it took me to an old burnt house.  Did you send the wrong address or something?**

I wait a few moments, and a reply arrives.

**No that’s the right place.  I know it’s a little weird, but it’s where I go to think sometimes.  I’m in what used to be the living room, lol.**

I smirk at the screen.  I’m learning new things about Rey all the time.  It doesn’t surprise me that she comes out here to think.  The fresh air and the peace and quiet of the open fields provides a perfect environment to just think.

Grabbing my backpack and keys, I step out of my old black truck that occasionally refuses to start, and trod down the gravelly path to the door of the house.  That’s when my heart drops.  Her voice.   _Her_ voice.  But it’s not laughing or chuckling.  It’s not whispering softly.  It’s not confident or proud.

No.  The voice I hear is desperate, and it is piercing my eardrums with screams and muffled sobs, even from where I stand, completely frozen at the entrance of the house.  Panic rises in my chest and flutters there, and I can feel my lower lip begin to tremble.  

My mind is racing but all I can focus on are those horrible cries that make me want to crumble into a ball and disappear.  I force myself to pass the threshold though, and the scent of ash and something burned long ago fills my nostrils.  What if she was exploring the house and somehow got hurt?  I notice that the house appears to be barely standing on its own.  It can’t be safe in here.  Maybe she trapped herself somewhere and couldn’t get out?  But something isn’t right, and it’s making my head spin as the charred walls and furniture and floorboards seem to melt into one black smudge.  I stumble my way into the living room, the pained cries ringing louder in my ears.

My hands clutch the edge of a withered couch as my eyes refuse to accept what I see.

**Rey**

Pain.  Excruciating, mind-numbing, agony is all I am capable of.  Whirring sounds and emotions flash around and within me like sirens.  The scent of blood and ash envelops me, and the floor is so cold.  His voice is like sandpaper grating against my ears and my skull is pounding.  His skin is like coarse leather and his nails are like talons as they sink into my bare flesh.  

When I woke up, the coldest eyes I’d ever witnessed staring down at me, I couldn’t hardly remember what exactly had happened.  I remembered purchasing a smoothie at Maz’s Cafe with Rose, spending some time chatting in the relaxed environment about anything and everything from Rose’s huge crush on Finn to my inability to imitate an American accent, and finally going our separate ways.  I remember that it wasn’t quite dark when I was walking home, and my spirits were as high as they could get.  My day had been perfect.  But something had been fluttering in my stomach as I turned the corner and began to trod past the old alleyway with a lively skip in my step.  I suppose it’s the intuition we’re all born with that some people pay more attention to than others.  But I had learned from years of experience growing up to _always_ trust that feeling.  My heart had begun racing and I hadn’t even known why.  I glanced around myself, taking in every detail of my surroundings.  No one was around, but that didn’t ease my nerves one bit.  I pulled out my switchblade (that I’m technically not supposed to have but keep on my person at all times) and walked with more apprehension.  I felt goosebumps rise on my arms and moved forward hesitantly.  Footsteps echoed behind me and my heart leaped into my throat.

And then everything happened like a flash of lightning.  Charged with the energy of self preservation, my breath coming out in short puffs, I spun around to behold the single most hideous face I’d ever laid eyes on.  I almost smacked right into him, but caught myself at the last moment.  He was a freakishly tall man with massive burn scars that disfigured his face.  A pang of empathy shot through me as I considered what he must’ve been through to wear such painful looking scars.

I backed away hesitantly, ashamed that I was staring at his scars, embarrassed that I had almost smacked into him with a switchblade in my hand.  “I’m sorry sir, I didn’t see you there and you frightened me.”  Immediately I regretted my word choice, hoping he wouldn’t think I meant that I was frightened by his appearance.  Although, I was.  “-I.  I mean you came out of nowhere and it…”  I stopped talking.  Something in his eyes was unnatural.  He didn’t look offended.  He didn’t look surprised even.  He only stared down at me with those cold lifeless eyes.  

My heart began to pound once more, and I clutched my knife tighter in my fist.  The warning my mind had been giving me hadn’t ever faded, and now it was apparent to me that I was in danger.  I was frozen in place when he began speaking.

“I could never be frightened by a little thing like you,” raspy tones emanated from his looming form.  I was taken aback by his demeaning tone.  I blinked a few times completely dumbfounded.  “Come closer, child.”

My lips pulled into a scowl as I clutched my knife at the ready.  This type of thing had happened before.  Growing up on the streets had given me an unfortunate advantage in this case.  “You’re gravely underestimating me.  I highly recommend you leave me alone,” my voice was calm yet tense.  I could feel my heart beating in my throat.

But he only chuckled.  The sound sent a shiver up my spine.  All of my years on the streets and never _once_ had anyone reacted to me this way.  It was contradicting everything I had ever learned.  “Silly child, I don’t think you know what I’m capable of.”  I had to make a decision.  He began slowly walking toward me, and a piece of me wanted to run.  But running away from someone with legs as long as his--idiotic.  I had to fight or get away somehow.  

“Closer, I said,” his voice had grown into a growl.  My mind was spinning and I struggled to devise a plan so quickly.  I decided to let him think I wouldn’t fight him for the moment.  Slowly, though reluctantly, I walked a few steps towards him and that is when his hands shot out as if to grab me.  A shout tore through my vocal chords as I launched my knife at his face.

I felt little resistance when the blade tore through the scar tissue of his left cheek, leaving a gaping hole as blood began to pour from his wound.  His face twisted in pain and fury as he screamed aloud.  It was a deep, booming, animalistic sound.  One of his mangled hands shot to his face, and the other grabbed me by my shirt collar and jerked me forward, tossing me off balance.  I stumbled into the alley in the direction he yanked me.  That was my first mistake.  Never, ever, allow anyone to corner you.  This rule shot through my mind at the speed of light as I kept myself from falling on my face by catching a hold on one of the filthy brick walls of the alley.  

He then turned, wearing an expression so emotionless and dark I know I’ll remember it until the end of my days.  “You!”  He actually began laughing, and one of my eyebrows quirked in both confusion and terror.  “You will _pay_ for what you’ve done, young fool.”  Blood and saliva bubbled out the side of his cheek as he spoke.  I immediately turned on my heels and bolted for the other end of the alley.  If I could get to the opening while he was still shocked by his injury I would have time to get away.  I would get home, and work on that stupid American History project that didn’t sound so stupid anymore.  

But as I ran, hearing the loud footsteps of the monster behind me, I quickly realized my second mistake.  There was no exit to this alley.  Only a solid, dingy looking brick wall that taunted me with its failed promises of freedom.  My heart sunk in my chest as I came to terms with reality.  I wasn’t going to make it out of this alleyway.

His booming laughter ricocheted off the filthy walls, and I spun around at the last moment just as his abnormally large hands were reaching out to grab me.  I swung my blade in a wide backhanded sweeping motion to knock his hands away from me, slashing the tops of his forearms in the process.  A growl echoed from his lips as he took a few steps back.  But his eyes were on fire.  They were somehow so cold and dead yet so malicious at the same time.  This time he ran at me, much faster than I was expecting, and clutched the wrist I was holding my blade in.  Before my mind could even process it, his other grotesquely massive hand shot out and circled around my throat.  I was very aware of the lack of air reaching my lungs.  Panic rushed through my entire body and I realized that I couldn’t use my weapon because of his vice-like grip on my wrist.  The pressure on my windpipe led me to dropping the knife entirely, both of my hands shooting to my throat in a brash attempt to pry the python off.  I thrashed my legs out hoping I could land a good kick even with my impaired senses.

My mind went to Finn.  If I was about to die out here in the hold of this creep, would Finn ever know?  Would anyone find me?  Would Ben show up to my house later today only to find that I’d disappeared entirely?  Would anyone _care_?  

His eyes stayed trained on mine as my head began to spin.  I struggled to keep my eyes open.  I couldn’t let go this easy.  I kicked my legs harder, loading as much malice into my expression as I possibly could.  I wanted him to know that I would never give him the satisfaction of submission.

The last thing I saw before I faded into darkness was the twisted smile of a creature that would haunt my dreams forever.

                    ***

I jolted awake and the first thing I noticed was the feeling of a sledgehammer pounding in my skull.  The second thing that I noticed was the scent of ash.  Like the remains of a fire that had long since burned out.  My eyes opened tentatively, my head still in a state of delirium.  My eyes skirted the room around me.  The walls were once white, but now they were singed and melted.  I spotted a couch that had somehow survived the inferno that left this place, wherever this was, a crumbling disaster.  I glanced up toward the ceiling, and swallowed hard, realizing that I could see right through it.  There was a large hole that had burnt through the ceiling, and I could see the cross beams that made up the infrastructure of the building.

My heart pounded as the thought occurred to me that this place could fall down at any moment, crushing me in a mess of rubble and ash.  I moved to get up, ignoring the pounding in my head, when a grim reality hit me that made my stomach churn.  I couldn’t move my wrists.  They brushed against tightly knotted rope.  My eyes shot wide as I arched my back to look at my bindings.  I was bound to a banister, and the knots were far too tight to undo myself.  I released a panicked gasp as I began to pull on the restraints.

Unfortunately this only burned at my wrists and tightened the rope.  I felt my throat constrict.  That’s when the memory came back to me.  The man in the alleyway.  No.  The _creature_ in the alleyway.  I thought I would’ve been dead by now, but finding myself alive in this suspicious environment only raised further questions in my muddled brain.  Why wouldn’t he have killed me?  He was strangling me only moments earlier and he had every opportunity to end my life there.

And yet there I was, tied to a banister in some house moments away from crumbling to pieces.  Anxiety twisted my insides as I glanced around frantically trying to look for an escape, trying to look for the monster.  But I couldn’t see anything except for the mangled furniture and discolored walls.  Immediately I went into defense mode, which was a strangely familiar feeling.  It brought about unnumbered childhood memories that I suppressed as soon as they resurfaced.  

The sound of heavy boots smacking against the broken floorboards snapped my attention away from my memories.  A form, somehow much larger and more grotesque than I last remembered, sauntered into the old living room, a condescending smirk twisting his features.  

I growled at him.  “Where am I?”  I was tugging on my ropes more aggressively now, ignoring the sting it caused.

He continued walking slowly toward me, taking all the time in the world.  He was practically gloating about the power he held over me.  It made me furious.  “That’s none of your concern.  You won’t be leaving,” his voice was sharp, and I was left speechless.

Won’t be leaving?  What did he mean by that?  Was he planning on killing me now?  Did he get some kind of sick pleasure out of all of this?  “Why did you take me here?”  My voice was cold, standoffish.  I wanted him to feel all of the burning hatred that was churning inside of me.  A man like this deserved to rot in the deepest trenches of hell itself.

“Oh foolish child, it seems you’re about to find out.  And I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise now would I?”

I could feel my entire body trembling in place.  I wanted to smack myself for acting so weak, but I couldn’t will myself to stop.  His words were as cold as ice, and they left me shivering like a weak fool.  I didn’t speak, for I feared my voice would give out on me if I did.

“Suddenly so quiet.  What exactly is it that you’re afraid of?  I promise you, when the time comes you will welcome death with open arms.  When the time comes you will be begging me to end your suffering.  You will be pleading for death, cowering at my feet.  No, child.  Death is not to be feared,” his voice was steady and unnaturally calm.  I felt my teeth chattering as his words shook me to my core.  So he wasn’t going to kill me just yet.  No, he had other plans.

I frantically yanked at the rope that so tauntingly secured my wrists over my head, not caring that I was now breaking skin.  I tugged and shrunk backward as his towering form loomed ever closer.  I was desperate now.  “Don’t you dare touch me you revolting snake,” my voice was low, though unforgivably weak.  I sounded as petrified as I felt.  

“Is that a challenge?”  he stared at me, eyes boring into my soul, and then he spoke once again.  “In that case, I accept.”  

I was panting in my struggle to undo the ropes, and something lit up in his eyes as he stared down at me.  I wanted to shrink into a ball and disappear from his scrutinizing gaze.  I couldn’t tell what was running through his mind, but his eyes were growing dark and I felt my heart sink in my chest like a block of stone.  

He sank to the ground before me, menacingly slowly.  He smiled as he saw the fear in my expression.  I could feel tears brimming my eyelids but I forced them away, not wanting to give him that kind of satisfaction.  If I’m going to die, I don’t want to go out bawling like a little girl.

My heart started racing faster and faster as his large muscled form crawled over my small quaking one, and my brain stopped working.  My head was still reeling, and the bruises on my neck from his grip in the alley were coming to my attention as I lifted my head off of the cold creaky floorboards.  His hands began to roam over my clothing at an agonizingly slow pace.  I froze.  It took my mind a moment to even process what was happening.  The tears were now coming back, and they blurred my vision as I told myself over and over that I needed a plan.

But I was shaky and weak and he was now groping my chest with his insect-like hands.  I felt utterly disgusting.  I tried to summon strength to my trembling legs, thrusting them forward to kick him away with all the force I could muster.  I found my voice once more and a loud cry of resistance erupted from my throat as I kicked at him.  He recoiled as my feet launched into his stomach, but his body remained looming over me.  I could feel my breaths get shallower.

The monster only chuckled, “Ever a fiery spit of hope.  I can’t wait to watch that last shining flicker of hope you possess burn out when I break you down to nothing.  I will destroy your light, and then you will die,” he sounded so sure, so absolute.  I kicked harder, I screamed at him.  I shouted and cursed at him.

“You’re a _monster_!” my voice almost broke.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” a booming laugh followed his words, and he reached to wrap his muscular arms around my thrashing legs, stilling them.  He was now sitting between my legs, leaning over my body with his lips just brushing against my ear.  It sent cold shivers down my spine.  “Now I will tell you this once.  I can appreciate a good fight, but you have to understand how tiring it will get for me if I’m constantly required to restrain you.  I’ll give you a little taste of what your defiance warrants, and from there you can make the decision for yourself.”  I could tell he could feel my legs shaking in his grasp, and his smirk only deepened.

I opened my mouth in protest, short panting breaths escaping my lips.  He slid one arm from around my left leg and grabbed a hold of my side, his nails practically digging into the back of my ribcage.  I sucked in a sudden breath, my mind racing to piece together what exactly he was about to do to me.  But I had no time before the heel of his palm slammed downward, and the sickening sound of bones cracking beneath the loathsome grip of his fingers filled my ears.  The pain was sudden and it flashed like a red light.  I sucked in air between gritted teeth and blinked away tears as I glared at the creature who held no empathy in his cold dead gaze.

A satisfied grin stretched his lacerated cheek, and I fought the urge to vomit at the sight.  My eyes were burning with tears, and I squeezed them shut.  Don’t cry.  Please, don’t cry.  Not now.  Not in front of _him_ .  I suddenly felt cold, and it wasn’t just from fear.  I blinked my eyes rapidly, trying to clear the tears away so that I could see what was going on.  To my horror, he had his insect-like fingers wrapped around _my_ switchblade, tearing along the seams of my clothing.  It was at this point that I had no doubts in my mind on what he was planning on doing.  Stories like this played in the news on occasion, always putting a sinking feeling in my chest, but I couldn’t have ever imagined the bone chilling fear that must’ve been coursing through the veins of each and every poor soul forced to endure such horrific events.

I flinched every time the blade touched my skin.  He was careless and nicked me a couple times, just to see my reaction.  I could feel the blood pooling on the surface of my skin.  A graze on my stomach.  A slit on my right shoulder.  My eyes stayed shut, and I knew that he had removed the last of my clothing.  That’s when I couldn’t stop the tears any longer.  In that moment, I had never felt more vulnerable in my life.  I had been stripped of my dignity before a man I’d never met in my life.  I was never going to get to give someone the gift of my first time, because _he_ was a selfish thief.  I wouldn’t lose my innocence in the arms of someone I trusted, because it was being stolen from me by a creature that has no concept of emotion.  No concept of compassion.  No concept of pain.

And then his hands were roaming again, his nails like claws, and tears freely fell down my cheeks.  I wanted to do something.  I wanted to hurt him, more badly than I’d ever wanted to hurt anyone in my life.  But I couldn’t move.  There was something inside of me that simply took away all of my natural fighting spirit.  It was a sense of humiliation and degradation that withered me down to a blubbering coward on the ground.  His fingers left a trail of unseen self loathing that I would never be able to wash away, tearing at parts of myself that had never been touched before.    

It felt like hours had gone by when his hands finally stopped moving, and I could feel his breath on my neck.  His next words would haunt my dreams for as long as I’d live.  His voice was breathy, yet rough like sandpaper.

“Give me…” I could feel him settling between my violently trembling legs, and I was bracing myself for the worst. “ _Everything._ ”

A scream tore through my vocal chords and his teeth sunk into the tender flesh of the crook of my neck.  The pain was like a searing hot knife.  In that moment I didn’t feel like Rey anymore.  No, because this type of thing didn’t happen in real life.  I was dreaming.  I was trapped in a nightmare and I would wake up and the pain would be gone and the tears would be gone and I would be safe in my bed.  

But no.  I wasn’t in a dream.  And I wouldn’t wake up from this.  I wouldn’t be safe.  I couldn’t bear to open my eyes because I didn’t want to see the look on his face.  I didn’t want to see those ghastly eyes again.  I didn’t want to see what his hands were doing and I certainly didn’t want to watch him tear away my innocence.  And then his lips were on mine and I couldn’t breathe.  My eyes shot open and I was sobbing into his mouth, and the rumbles of his laughter resonated throughout my entire body.  

His tongue was slimy and deplorable, and I was practically gagging on it when a piece of my reason returned for just a moment, and I growled as I sunk my teeth into the spongy mass.  He yelped and tore away from my face, allowing me to catch my breath.  The next few thrusts were especially painful, and I felt his loathsome fist connect with my cheek in a harsh blow.  My head had already been muddled before the jarring blow, but now my vision was twisting and blurring.  

I discovered that he hadn’t lied to me.  I was praying for death to release me from the agony I was forced to endure.  I was desperately trying to keep from shattering completely.  That’s when I heard a buzzing noise.  Our eyes met briefly, and his narrowed suspiciously to my left.  And then I remembered:  my phone.  His eyes flew back to mine, and he slowly reached for my phone, threatening me with his gaze.  I tried to catch my breath during the lull of movement, and watched carefully as he held up my phone, raising an eyebrow curiously.  

“You have a message from a Ben Solo.”  The phone vibrated again while in his hand.  “Two messages.  Who is this?  A boyfriend?  Anyone who might be looking for you?”  Oh.  Ben.  I had completely forgotten about him in my suffering.  He was probably wondering where I was and why I blew him off.  Little did he know.  I could tell that the monster was attempting to gather information to cover his tracks.  It was easy enough to see.

“Why do _you_ care?  Thinking of where to hide my body when you’re through with me?”  I had tried to sound even just a little bit threatening, but my words came out sounding shaky and weak.  Hearing them out loud reaffirmed to me that I was going to die, and my only hope was that it wouldn’t be drawn out much longer.

He chucked lightheartedly, which felt both wrong and unnerving in this moment, and he smirked.  “Something like that.  Unlock your phone.”

A bitter laugh erupted from my lips.  It even surprised me.  I didn’t think I was capable of laughter at a time like this when I felt so vulnerable and manipulated.  “I can’t.  Or have you forgotten that you tied my wrists above my head?”  I balled my hands into fists, pressing my thumbs close to my palms.  He needed my thumbprint, and I was _not_ about to give him access to the people I care about, no matter how tired I was of resisting.  I knew he would get into it one way or another if he really wanted to.

His eyes were trained on my fists, and I could see the gears turning in his head.  He started moving again, and I hissed in response.  “You didn’t think we were done did you?”

And then he leaned forward, clawing at my hands.  I clenched them shut as I tried to ignore the shockwaves of pain the loathsome creature was intentionally ministrating.  A frustrated growl rumbled in his chest, and he violently tore away from me, causing a distressed whimper to fly from my lips.

He rose to his feet, gripping my phone in his hand walking forward so that his shoes were mere inches from my face.  He was prying at my closed fists once more, and I focused all of my vastly depleted energy on keeping them shut.  “What did I tell you about resisting?” he hissed at me, and I braced myself for the inevitable.  The snap was sickeningly loud as his boot slammed into my right forearm, the bone giving out and my nerves screaming at the immense throbbing it caused.  I hadn’t even realized that my hands flew open in shock of the impact, and the monster then decided to yank my _right_ arm up so that he could use my thumb print.  I shrieked as my arm was twisted unnaturally, and then he turned away, dropping my arm completely when he got my phone unlocked.  “You’re _disgusting_ ,” I found myself muttering under my labored breaths, not even bothering to blink away my steadily flowing tears.

“Thank you.  And if you try another stunt like that, just know that I’m aware of who your friends are, and I have no moral conflict regarding ending their lives to pay for your impudence.”  My heart dropped.  I was done for, my unfortunate fate already sealed, but _please_ not Finn.  Not Poe, or Rose.  They didn’t deserve to die because of me.  I found that my lip was trembling.  Everything inside of me yearned to warn them, to tell them I’m sorry and I never wanted to hurt them.  My desire to scream and fight had returned, but the physical stamina to do so had long since faded.

He was now messing with my phone, but I didn’t have the mental capacity to care in that moment.  All I could feel was the steady thrums of agony stabbing through me like blades, and the newfound fear of my actions condemning my friends.  But while he was typing on my phone, and I had a chance to breathe, even if it was just for a moment.  I had accepted that at this point I wasn’t going to live, so I took this time to center my mind.  I said a prayer to whoever was out there that it would be quick, and I wouldn’t have to suffer for much longer.

I found myself in a state of delirium, the scent of ash ever presently burning in my nose.  I vaguely remembered hearing the phone buzz a few more times, but it was growing more difficult to focus on anything but the agonizingly steady aching in my limbs.  But heavy footsteps echoed in my eardrums once more, and I knew he wasn’t through with me yet.

“ _Please_ ,” the word escaped my lips before I could stop it.  It was a pitiful whimper, and I couldn’t even chide myself for it anymore.  “Kill me first.”

A look of immense satisfaction was plastered across his deformed features, and the predatory gleam in his eyes had only darkened.  “That would be far too easy, wouldn’t it?  I like to play with my food.”

And that brings us to the present.  Pain.  Excruciating, mind-numbing, agony is all I am capable of.  Whirring sounds and emotions flash around and within me like sirens.  The scent of blood and ash envelops me, and the floor is so cold.  His voice is like sandpaper grating against my ears and my skull is pounding.  His skin is like coarse leather and his nails are like talons as they sink into my bare flesh.

My eyes are squeezed shut and my mind is only half present, as I’m swept back into that hellish place where I am not myself.  I am the wounded prey and _he_ is the demonic hunter.  My death will bring him great pride, and my life will bring him great pleasure.  I am shouting but my voice is hoarse, and the manner in which I’m being held puts vast amounts of pressure on my splintered arm.  I can taste the salt from my tears on my lips, and the coppery flavor of my own blood, leaking from my bottom lip.  I begin to fade, my senses unable to cope with what I can feel, the nauseating resonations of his whispers in my ears.  Dizziness dances around in my head, and before long I can hardly focus on one thing at a time.  Sounds and emotions and feelings are all muddled together.

I don’t even know what’s happening when I hear a second pair of boots bending the floorboards of this cursed building.  The voice of the monster booms above me.  “So nice of you to join us Kylo Ren...or should I say Ben Solo?”

Wait _Ben_ ?   _Ben Solo_?  I pry my eyes open and cringe at the way my skull pounds.  I strain my neck to see if his words are correct.  Is Ben Solo really here?  But I can’t see anything past the unfeeling treacherous beast that looms over me.  His voice explodes again.  “Why so quiet?  I’ve done you a favor.  I’ve seen the way you look at her.  Don’t tell me this hasn’t crossed your mind even just once.”

Wait, _what?_  If Ben is here he still hasn’t spoken, because the room has grown silent save for my own soft whimpers.  And then the other voice meets my ears, and I know without a doubt that it _is_ Ben Solo.  His voice sounds strained.  “Snoke...you’ve been watching _me_ too?”

So this crudely shapen excuse for a man...Snoke...has been _watching me?_  For how long?  I shudder internally at the thought of this creep watching me without having any idea.  Did Ben know about this?  Did Ben know this man?  His words were few but he said his name.  He had to know this Snoke...if that even is his true name.  I make eye contact with him for just a moment, and his eyes tell me silently that this isn’t over.  With one last cruel grin he climbs off of me, adjusting and rezipping his jeans, staring me in the eyes the entire time.

As he stands and turns toward Ben, I can finally see him.  That is certainly Ben Solo, but his face is as white as a ghost.  I can’t read his eyes, but my ability to focus isn’t in peak performance right now either.  “I don’t question your loyalty, _Ben_ , if that’s what is concerning you.  You knew I had been watching Rey and you two go to the same school.  I can’t help but notice when _you’re_ watching her too.”  

I’m at a loss for words, because none of this is making any sense.  Who is Snoke, and how is he involved with Ben?  I notice Ben’s hands clutching the edge of the scorched sofa as if it’s his lifeline.  His bottom lip is trembling ever so slightly, and it’s impossible to read what’s going on in his mind.

“Still so silent.  You’ve been loyal to me thus far, and I am not entirely cruel.   _This_ is your reward, young Solo, and when you are finished _you_ can be the last face she sees before departing from this world.”

I attempt in vain to stifle a sob as his malicious words meet my ears.  So this is how it’s going to end?  With Ben?  My breathing picks up once more and Snoke turns back towards me, walking menacingly in my direction.  I don’t know what he’s going to do, but I can feel all of my muscles seize up in anticipation of whatever vile acts he has planned.  But to my surprise, he walks right up by my head, grabbing my switchblade from the ground and settling it between my wrists.  I freeze as the blade saws through the thick knots of rope that have been digging into my skin.  I stare up at him in confusion, not trusting that he would purposefully do anything just to be kind.  He only raises an eyebrow at me, and I glance back at Ben, my wrists finally released from their bindings.  His left eye twitches ever so slightly as his eyes meet mine.  I can’t even bear to look at him, feeling so vulnerable and worthless in this moment.  I redirect my gaze at the gaping hole in the ceiling.  That way I don’t have to see that _look_.  I don’t even know what the look means.  I just know that there is something both dark and sad in his eyes, and I can’t look at it.

My thoughts are cut off when Snoke harshly grabs my shoulders and yanks me off of the ground, illiciting a startled gasp to fly from my lips.  Black dots swim across my vision at the sudden movement, and before I know it large rough hands are pressing against my shoulder blades, shoving me suddenly forward.  The burning scent of ash only intensifies as I am hurled forward, my left foot catching on something protruding from the ground.  My spinning mind makes balance an impossibility, and my weight propels me toward the ground, my left foot turning inward as I fall.  A sharp cry tears through my vocal chords and my hands shoot out to catch myself on instinct.  But as soon as my right hand hits the floor, the pressure on my shattered arm causes it to buckle beneath me.  I land with a thump on my side, and a red hot flash of pain explodes around my broken ribs causing me to cry out even louder.  I don’t even care how pitiful I must sound at this point.

“Go ahead Ben.  She’s all yours,” Snoke’s voice rumbles, dripping with arrogance.  I feel a heavy boot connect with my right side and hiss as I’m carelessly turned on my back.  Snoke hovers nearby, tossing my switchblade to the floor between Ben and I.  Much to my horror, Ben’s large form leans down to grab the knife.  He’s slow, careful.  His dark eyes look cold and dangerous; he looks nothing like the Ben with the beautiful handwriting.  I beg him with my eyes to find a sliver of humanity within himself.  “Ben,” I gasp, trembling violently on the crooked floorboards.  However, my heart sinks when I realize that my pleading is all in vain.  His massive form is hovering menacingly over me within seconds, dark eyes gleaming, and I know in that moment that my fate is sealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MUAHAHAHA I'm evil for leaving you on a cliffhanger but you know what...I don't feel that bad about it. Please know that my friend and I take the subject of abuse very seriously, and if you or anyone you know is suffering from any kind of abuse don't hesitate to call the sexual assault helpline at (877) 955-5247. 
> 
> That being said I hope you liked the chapter and will continue to follow our journey through recovery, angst, fluff, romance, and find out what Ben is planning on doing.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked- I would love some feedback if you'd like to read more!


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